Bamboozle
by Stuffed Piggy
Summary: She was ready for anything...just not this.


A/N: Because I threw away everything pertaining to my other fanfic. I had to find something to occupy me while I mourn it. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own OHSHC.

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**Bamboozle: Chapter 1**

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"Life is a dream for the wise, a game for the fool, a comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor."

-Sholom Aleichem

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She told me it would be funny, that they would find humor in my little joke, that they would see right through me and have a good laugh.

She lied.

Everyone thought I was a boy. There were girls who actually swooned when I walked by, and people followed me around like some sort of weird stalkers.

Don't get me wrong; I tried telling them. I even screamed it out in frustration, but they thought _that_ was the joke. I could've cried.

"I don't even see how this was possible, how anyone could mistake me as anything but female," I ranted, grasping my head in frustration, "I have breasts, I'm average in height, my face is feminine in nature, and I wear make-up. I just didn't get it!"

_She _giggled, like this sick little dilemma that she landed me in was funny. My twisted little cousin had probably planned this all along

"It's not fair," I whimpered, distraught with my plight, "no one will approach me. They talk about me like I'm not there, and whenever _I _try talking to them, _you _show up." I spun around pointing an accusing finger at that devious little worm.

"Blah, blah, blah," she droned, spinning around in her chair, "As if I would go out of my way to do something so boring."

"Stop lying!" I yelled at her, balling my fists. Her faced looked so tempting right now, painting it a nice purple might teach her some respect.

She stuck her tongue out at me, as if deeming me with a response was below her.

"Argh! It's true," I stomped my foot for emphasis, "you always make me do these weird faces and they run away from me. Let me have friends, and leave me alone!"

She cleaned her ear out with her pinky like a common thug, and complained annoyingly, "Che, stop you're whining. I can't help what sort of faces you make, it's your own fault you haven't learnt to deal with your issue," she continued, inspecting whatever gunk she acquired from her ear, "And don't ask me for the impossible."

"You're so gross," I groused, flopping onto her bed, "My issue is perfectly acceptable. No one _needs_ to touch me, especially you." I knew it was an impossible request to demand, our fathers would never permit it, but it wouldn't hurt to have a little breathing room.

Mami would always go around touching me when we were little kids, and I hated it. I hated it when anyone would touch me, so no one would bother after I my public freak out. Mami though, she would take every opportunity she had when we were alone to bug me. Poking my butt, shoving my shoulder, licking my face, you name it she did it. All of that just to get a reaction out of me, and it never failed to work.

Through all those years though, she always did it because she was bored, because I was boring, because she found my reactions amusing. Mostly, I think it had more to do with our family situation. It was made very clear to us that Mami was inferior; she was to be my retainer and nothing more.

Obviously our families were idiots. Spending so much time with a person would guarantee a close relationship, even if it were an involuntary one. So, I allowed her her stupid little games because she needed an emotional outlet, and I felt her position in life unfair. So, yeah.

"Look," She said casually, reclining next to me, "you had your chance."

"What do you mean?" I asked her incredulously.

"I mean, you had your chance," she repeated slowly at me, ticking me off, "No one forced you to dress up as a boy."

"Nuh uh," I refuted, "you did."

"Iiiddiiooott," she teased flicking my ear, "I suggested it. At any time you could have refused."

I sat up quickly clutching my ear with a grimace, "That's not fair, it was a funny idea."

Mami smiled an empty smile, twirling her ombre hair, "Only a dimwit like you would think so."

"Not so, anyone would understand the joke," I argued.

"Then why didn't _they_?" She asked mockingly, examining her nails.

"Well they must not be the brightest bunch," I deliberated, asking hopefully, "Or they could be teasing me in turn?"

She stared at me with a flat expression, in disbelief almost, if I was reading her right.

"How can you be so smart, but such an moron?" She murmured to herself in disbelief.

"Hey!" I yelled offended, "At least _I_ don't act like a man!"

"Was that supposed to hurt me?" She droned.

"Whose the idiot now?" I mumbled, feeling put out.

"You," she said simply, "Iddioooittt."

I sighed feeling frustrated that the conversation was going nowhere. Was it so hard to believe that maybe they were just teasing the "New Kid"? That they really did see right through me and decided to get a laugh?

"Your hair is short, so short that it's verging into guy territory. It barely reaches your ears," she held up her hand stopping me from my forming rebuttal, "I don't know how you would consider that feminine. You have breasts," she point at my chest, "but nothing to brag about. I know you still wear training bra's Shi-chan, you're so flat the bumps are almost nonexistent."

I felt myself tear up; it wasn't fair that my busty cousin was telling me this. She had no right to bring my insecurity out into the open. I could still grow some!

"Furthermore, you play too much out side, so your skin is nicely tanned. Not at all an indication of femininity. Because of your activeness you have an abnormally fast metabolism, and what does that do? It eats up all your stored fats; you have no cheeks to speak of, above or below!" she pinched my cheeks, painfully mashing my face together, "Your voice is a pitch too low to even consider being female, so stop living in denial Shiori, and face the facts," She said proverbial flames in her eyes, "You're a bishounen!"

At her declaration, my self-esteem shot down. It sank somewhere to the bottom of the ocean, and I was drowning in self-loathing. She was right; it explained the eyes, the girls, and the whispers of my potentially being gay. They had never doubted my being a boy, and shouting against it just made me out to be some sort of vagrant.

"It's for the best," Mami soothed, patting my knee, "You would have been the school cross dresser otherwise."

I couldn't even pass as my own gender? What sort of excuse of the female race did that make me?! I would never get married, I would never have children, and I would never have sex with the opposite gender.

Tears rolled down my cheeks while heat of shame infused my face and neck. Choking on my breaths, I hiccupped and cried out, "B-but I don't want to be a bishounen!"

I grabbed a pillow and stuffed my face into it while I wailed. It wasn't fair, no one else had to deal with this sort of abuse to his or her self-image. What did I do to deserve this treatment?

"You're so mean Mami-chan," I whimpered into the cushion.

"It's the truth, and it's time you learned it," she said, sounding more serious then I'd heard in a while.

"But Daddy always says I'm cute," I tried fighting her logic. Dad would always say that I was cutest, and that I would have no trouble when it came to finding a fiancée.

"Uncle is a liar. Who do you think set up this arrangement?" Mami said with a superior smirk, and glint to her eye.

"The only one who can mess with your records is Uncle, and he even had rumors spread around that his son is a bit eccentric," her lips spread to a mischievous smile, and her eyes became little crescents in her amusement, "Did you even wonder why he agreed to your new hair cut?"

"Wasn't it because he said I had good taste?" I answered despondently, staring at the mess my cosmetics made on her pillow. If I looked closely, they sort of looked like the inkblots used during those mental tests. Tilting my head I made out a murder scene, maybe that was a representation of my dying dreams?

"Che, yeah right. That old fart wouldn't know good taste if it smacked him in the face," she answered peering at me, "It's no wonder you're the same."

Letting out a sigh, I pitifully answered, "Please stop."

"Nope," she let out a disgustingly deep chortle, "I'm just getting started."

I'm not sure I could take anymore "truths" she had to throw my way. My head and heart hurt, and Mami just wanted to poke her stick of rueful words at me. I stuffed my head back under some other pillows, but her words still rang clear, "Why did you go through with it anyway?"

"The hairstyle or uniform?" I asked feeling drained.

"Both." She started kicking her feet on the bed, like we were having some sort of girl talk.

Smacking my lips, I sniffled, mumbling, "I thought it was funny."

"Yeah, but it wasn't," she stated the obvious.

"I just wanted them to like me," I admitted, "You said they would."

"I didn't lie though did I?" She questioned, "Tons of girls like you now!"

I gritted my teeth and grinded them, she knew that wasn't what I was talking about. I didn't want girls to like me in _that _way, I didn't even really want boys to like me in that way. I just wanted to have some friends.

"Stop pouting," Mami chided, smacking my back with a pillow, "It's your fault. You shouldn't be craving the approval of strangers."

"I just wanted some friends," I argued, resurfacing and glaring at her, "that's not too much to ask for."

"And that's where you went wrong, Shi-chan," she said studying my wrecked face, "you shouldn't want anything more than connections. Friends are the only ones that can betray you, the only ones that can stab you in the back. Connections can do nothing more than change alliances'."

She patted my head, as if I were somehow an ignorant naive little girl to not have known this stupid concept. I smacked her hand away, scowling at her breach of personal space.

Sometimes, I wish I born a commoner. _They_ didn't have to deal with all this nonsense.

"Okay then, be that way," Mami huffed, "Brat."

I grabbed a pillow and smack her as hard as I could. It felt good to see her falling off the bed with a thump. Then I went and attack her with a barrage of pillow hits. It felt good to get back at her in general. My stupid cousin loved being the bearer of bad news, and I wasn't blind. I could see her stupid enjoyment of my misery.

I booked it, exhausted from the overall drama of today, racing to my room, and locked the door. I didn't care that I left my stuff in her room, and was just grateful she stayed down for as long as she did. If there was one thing I would admit to it was being a slow runner.

I shed my clothes and beelined my way to my washroom, smiling when I heard Mami's angry banging at my door. The brat deserved what she got, and I didn't regret a thing.

As I foresaw, my face really was a mess. I guess I would have to stick to a basic cosmetic routine, a boy couldn't be seen with mascara. I heaved a sigh, I couldn't believe Dad would force me like this, it was for _such_ a stupid reason too. If mom were alive, she would totally set him straight.

I went about removing my makeup, and sulked. It wasn't like I could just call Dad; he was really strict about his personal phone. If I called for anything less than fatal, he would cut me off. Last time I slipped and did that, my punishment lasted for two months. I don't think I could go through with that again.

Showering, I battled with myself. I could always send him a text, but he didn't answer those until he got off work. There wasn't much harm in a text, but my dilemma wouldn't be easily resolved. It was that entire idiots fault anyway, I shouldn't have to fight for him to fix this!

Deciding to screw the consequences, I got dressed in my pj's and sent him a long ranting text. Hopefully Dad would get over himself and actually let me grow up as the lady I am. The idiot.

What sort of girl would take being a bishounen a good thing? How could I ever be satisfied with that? It didn't even matter that my cousin said I was attractive, the whole concept was a moot point if was to the wrong gender. I tossed and turned, not at all awaiting the following day.


End file.
